


Betrayed

by LeastExpected_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Drama, M/M, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-02-04
Updated: 2002-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:07:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26217622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeastExpected_Archivist/pseuds/LeastExpected_Archivist
Summary: by Flaming Red OracleFrodo is captured by the ruthless orcs and brutally tortured! WARNING--This fic contains very shocking and disturbing material, read it at your own risk!
Relationships: Frodo Baggins/Sam Gamgee
Kudos: 3
Collections: Least Expected





	Betrayed

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Amy Fortuna, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Least Expected](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Least_Expected), which has been offline since 2002. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Least Expected collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/leastexpected/profile).
> 
> Disclaimer: As always, I do not own these characters because I'm not Tolkien! So please no suing, thank you.
> 
> Story Notes: This story is extremely graphic, so consider yourself warned!
> 
> Warnings: Torture and Violence

In the bowels of the orcs' loathsome dungeon, a shrill voice cries out in endless pain. The victim's agonized screams echo throughout the darkness; such sweet delight to the ears of his oppressor! The piercing cries belong to none other than Frodo Baggins. His rope-burned wrists were tightly tied down to a large, wooden table, as he laid flat upon his stomach. His moss-green cloak, buttoned-up brown vest, and white blouse had all been stripped away--leaving him dressed only in his torn, dirty breeches. Upon his bare back were numerous, crisscrossed lashes stretched in all directions, raw and bleeding!

With a firm grip around the handle of his leather whip, an orc interrogator smacked yet another powerful blow to the helpless hobbit's vulnerable skin.

"AHHHH!" cried Frodo; as the merciless whip tore into his pale, crimson-streaked flesh! He squirmed in a desperate attempt to escape, but could not break free from his bonds. The agonizing sting burned into him like hot fire! Never had he known such pain. The brutal lashing was far worse than when he had been stabbed by the sinister Ring Wraith's evil blade, and penetrated with the cave troll's spear! He could feel his warm blood trickling down his raw back, as the pain throbbed immensely.

"Speak, hobbit!" roared the orc. His blood-red eyes glared at his tiny victim with boiling hatred. The foul stench of his horrendous breath filled the room. He was determined to receive the vital information Saruman had instructed him to pry from his captive's lips. "Speak now, hobbit!" he growled in anger. "Where is the Ring?"

Frodo gave no answer, but only whimpered and moaned instead. His bright, blue eyes filled with watery tears, yet he would not give in to his tormentor.

The relentless orc delivered several more lashes, and in reply received several more screams. "What have you done with the Ring? Talk!"

There was still no answer. The orc was more furious and stumped than ever! He could not determine if the hobbit was being stubbornly resistant, or just simply too weakened by the interrogation to cooperate. Either way, the menacing creature was quickly losing his patience. He would have the information he desired, if he had to chop off the little hobbit's fingers to get it!

The ominous hissing and cracking of the whip--followed by Frodo's shrill cries--continued for another hour, until finally, the frustrated orc gave up and decided to take a rest. He coiled up the leather whip in his brawny, goblin-like hands and glared at his sobbing victim. It was a glare as sharp and penetrating as a ruthless dagger! Vowing to return with even more gruesome methods to ensure the hobbit's full cooperation, he turned and stomped out of the room in an angry huff--slamming the door hard behind him.

Suddenly, there was silence...a dead, eerie silence. Frodo found himself alone at last; though he knew in his heart the orc would not be gone for long. Fresh blood seeped from his open wounds, dribbling down his sides. His frail body trembled. No matter how hard he tried, he could not keep his anguished tears from flowing down his pale cheeks. How could this have happened to him? Why did this happen? He could find no other reason, other than that he was chosen by fate to suffer as the doomed Ringbearer. Fate was cruel! His mind wandered back to a time, not long ago, when he was once happily living each day in peace and contentment in his beloved home, Bag End.

The Shire had been such a merry place--filled with good friends, home-cooked meals, festivities, rolling green hills, and a stuffed pipe to smoke on sweet summer days!

Little did Frodo truly realize just how wonderful his life had been...until now. Now that everything had changed forever. He wondered if he would ever see his precious Hobbiton again. Without a doubt, this dark, putrid-smelling prison would be his final end. He feared he would never see his beloved friends again. He missed his sweet and loyal companions--Sam, Merry, and Pippin. He also felt so empty and lost without his brave Aragorn to protect him. He even found himself longing for the company of Boromir, Legolas, and Gimli. But the one he especially missed the most, was good ol' Gandalf. Dear Gandalf--so powerful, so wise, and not to mention so wonderful a friend. Next to Bilbo and Sam, the old, gray wizard was the one young Frodo felt the closest to. He deeply respected and admired the man, always looking up to him and desiring to be more like him every day. But alas, Gandalf was gone. The tragic loss of the old wizard still ached painfully in the hobbit's heart.

Just then, a sudden noise abruptly interrupted Frodo's reminiscing. It was the sound of the dungeon's door slowly creaking open.

Frodo's thoughts and fears exploded in his tiny head--the terrible orc had returned for more torture! Trembling, Frodo drew in a deep breath. He knew what was going to happen next; though he could not bear to think of it. What would the dreaded creature afflict upon him this time? A flaming-hot, iron poker? Or perhaps he would have his small limbs stretched upon a rack, only to have his joints mercilessly pulled apart--or worse yet--mutilated! No matter what the crude instrument of torture would be, it promised to bring more pain and suffering to the halfling. Frodo wished more than ever for death to come upon him. If only he could finally die and end it once and for all!

"Mr. Frodo?" came a gentle, familiar voice. "Mr. Frodo?"

Frodo's weary heart leaped in his bruised chest. Could it be? Could he really be hearing his beloved Sam's voice? Or was it only his imagination running away with him? A cruel joke, perhaps, brought on by misery and madness! The broken halfling opened his blurry eyes and faintly twisted his head to one side. Weakened by his brutal interrogation, he managed to lift his feeble head barely enough to catch a glimpse of the shadowy person standing beside him. "S--Sam?" he groaned. "S--Sam? Is...is that...you, Sam?"

The shadowy figure stepped closer. "Why, yes, Mr. Frodo," came a reply. "It is I, and no other."

Frodo's eyes bulged wide open. He gasped aloud with unexpected surprise. A flood of joy and relief swept over him like a rushing river. It was his dear ol' Sam after all! Not some delirious hallucination brought on by hopeless, wishful thinking--but the real Samwise Gamgee, in the flesh!

"Sam! Sweet Sam!" Frodo squealed, in a broken voice. Overcome with emotion, he burst into tears. "Oh, Sam! You don't know how happy I am to see you! I was afraid we would never see each other again!"

Sam smiled gently at his master. "Shh, now...there, there, Mr. Frodo. There's no need for tears. Come now, dry your pretty eyes. There'll be no more cryin', understand?"

Frodo choked back a sob, trying to regain his composure--which was difficult under the grim circumstances! Whatever honor he once possessed had been stripped away by the foul orcs! He bleakly looked up at his faithful companion. "But, Sam...th--the orcs...they tortured me for information! They wanted me to tell them where the Ring is!"

Sam only shook his head callously, grinning at his captive friend. "Yes, yes, I know," he replied. He stared at the deep, bleeding lashes marked all over Frodo's bare back. "And judging from the looks of things, I'd say they've done a heck of a job, too! They sure did a number on you, Mr. Frodo. There's no lyin' about that!"

Sam's unusual response alarmed Frodo. "Wh--what did you say?" he asked timidly.

Sam chuckled heartily. "Wow, Mr. Frodo, you must really be sore! I imagine that's gotta hurt a bunch!"

Frodo was aghast. He simply could not believe his ears! "Sam? Are...are you all right?"

"Why, sure I am, Mr. Frodo," Sam snickered. "Obviously much better than you, of course. Good gracious, those orc fellas really know how to tear up a poor guy's back, don't they?"

"Sam, quickly--you've got to untie me!" pleaded Frodo. "Hurry, Sam, before the orcs return!"

Sam folded his arms and replied, "Untie you?" He shook his head. "Nope, I don't think I will, Mr. Frodo. Nope, no, sir."

Frodo stared at his companion wide-eyed. "What? What are you saying?"

Sam grinned wickedly. "I think I'll leave you right where you're at. I don't think I wish to set you free."

"Sam!" Frodo screeched, with a hoarse throat. "Sam--what is the matter with you? Why won't you help me?"

"There's a lot of good reasons why I won't help you, Mr. Frodo," Sam answered coldly, with fire gleaming in his eyes. "One of the many reasons, is that I'm sick and tired of being your servant dog! Day in and day out, I slave away to cater to your every need. And what do I get in return? Nothing! That's what--nothing! Well, personally, Mr. Frodo, I'm just plain tired of it all. I don't want a master anymore. In fact, I'm thinking about becoming my own master. What do you say to that, Mr. Frodo?"

Frodo's expression looked like that of someone who had just been struck by a bolt of lightening! "B--but...Sam...I'm not just your master! You and I have been best friends ever since we were children! Remember? We grew up together, played together, we even hang out at the pub together! Have you forgotten how we've always looked out for each other? How we've fought the orcs side by side? Sam, you and I are like brothers!"

Sam responded with a hateful look. "Brothers? No, Mr. Frodo, we are not brothers! You are my wealthy master, and I am just your poor, humble servant! Do you have any idea what it's been like living in your shadow all these years?"

Frodo was speechless from shock. Being tortured by the orcs was something he expected, but being betrayed by his dearest friend was not! This was unbearable!

"Well, do you?" Sam continued. "No, of course not! How could you possibly know what it feels like to be born poor and have people look down on you as a mere simpleton, just because you came from a lower-class family? Did you really think I didn't know what everyone has said about me behind my back all these years? Huh?"

Frodo stared with bitter tears in his eyes. Sam's cruel words were like a stab through the heart!

"Sure, maybe I've never been given the opportunity to have a decent education like you, or live in a nice, fancy house like Bag End--or even wear expensive clothes--but there's one thing I do know. I know that I deserve much more than what life has given me so far, and I aim to get it!" Sam stepped closer to Frodo.

Frodo trembled with fear at Sam's approach. His heart pounded ferociously like a wild drum.

Sam bent down and whispered softly into the prisoner's ear. "And I'll tell you something else, Mr. Frodo Baggins, if you honestly think that I haven't noticed the way you've been looking at my sweet Rosie Cotton--then you're sadly mistaken!"

"R--Rosie Cotton?" exclaimed Frodo, alarmed. "What does Rosie have to do with this?"

"Oh, don't try to play innocent with me, Master!" Sam growled angrily. "You know damn well what I'm talking about! You've had an eye out for my Rosie for the longest time, and don't you dare deny it!"

"But...but, Sam!" Frodo stammered. "I don't have feelings for Rosie, I swear it!"

Sam's blood boiled with rage. "Liar!" he shouted. Without warning, he raised his brawny fist in the air and struck Frodo as hard as he could across his right cheek!

Frodo cried out in excruciating pain. The whole right side of his face burned like fire! Wincing from the stinging blow, he gazed up at his once-loyal friend through watery eyes.

Sam's face was red-hot with fury, twisted and contorted like a mad demon! "You must think I'm really stupid, don't you? Poor, dumb Samwise Gamgee! He's too ignorant to suspect anything--right? Well, Mr. Frodo, you'll have to give me more credit than that. I'm not as dumb and blind as you may think!"

Frodo's cheek still ached terribly from the throbbing pain. "But, Sam, I don't--"

"Shut up!" Sam snapped. "I know you've always been in love with Rosie, and you think just because you're rich, handsome, and better educated that you can steal her away from me! Well, I won't let you, Mr. Frodo! Rosie is MY girl and you can't have her, do you hear me?" He grabbed a handful of Frodo's dark, curly hair and yanked as hard as he could.

"AHH!" Frodo yelped in pain. "Sam, please--stop! You're hurting me!"

Sam ignored his master's plea. "I know, that's the whole point!" He viciously pulled the hobbit's hair even harder! "Why should you always have everything handed to you on a silver platter, huh? What makes you the special one? Why should you have Sauron's Ring? Why not me?"

"Sam, you don't know what you're saying!"

"I know exactly what I'm saying! I should be the noble Ringbearer--not you! You're just a whiny, little sniveling coward! I'm stronger and better than you'll ever be! I should be the one to claim the Ring! After all, I deserve its great power more than you!"

"NO!" cried Frodo. "Please stop, Sam! I'm begging you!"

"I don't think I, nor the Fellowship, have any further use for you, Mr. Frodo!" Sam reached for the hilt of his broad sword and slowly pulled the long weapon from its scabbard. Raising the gleaming blade high above his head, he gazed into the eyes of his former master one last time. "I shall be the Ringbearer from now on--and then all of Sauron's power will be mine!"

Tears swelled in Frodo's eyes and flooded down his pale cheeks. "Why are you doing this, Sam? I love you! You're my dearest friend in the whole world! Please, Sam, I'm begging you--don't do this!"

"Sorry, Mr. Frodo," Sam replied wickedly, "but I'm afraid your time has finally come. I have no other choice but to kill you, if I am to claim the Ring for myself. I can't have it as long as you're alive." He aimed the deadly sword at the base of Frodo's tender neck. "Good-bye, Mr. Frodo!"

**"NOOOO!!!"**

* * *

"Mr. Frodo...Mr. Frodo...wake up!"

Frodo whimpered and tossed his head from side to side.

"Mr. Frodo! Mr. Frodo! Wake up, please!"

Frodo slowly opened his weary eyelids and awoke to the gentle sound of his beloved Sam's voice.

"Please get up, Mr. Frodo," said Sam soothingly, lightly nudging on Frodo's left shoulder.

"Uhh..." Frodo moaned weakly, slowly sitting up. His blurry vision cleared. "S--Sam? Is...is that...you?"

Sam smiled sweetly. "Well, of course it's me, Mr. Frodo. You were screaming and mumbling all sorts of strange things in your sleep."

Frodo's blue eyes widened, his mouth fell open. "A nightmare?" he gasped.

"Yes, sir, Mr. Frodo," Sam answered politely. "And from the sound of it, it must've been a downright awful one! You were making so much noise, that you woke me up from my dream--not that it was your fault or anything, of course. I--I really don't mind at all."

"Oh, Sam!" Frodo exclaimed, with great relief. "Thank goodness it was all just a terrible dream! I can't begin to tell you what a comfort it is to have finally woken up!"

"I bet it is, Mr. Frodo," Sam chuckled, staring at his young master with loving eyes.

"Did I wake the others?" asked Frodo meekly.

"No, sir. They're all still sleeping as soundly as ever, like babies in a cradle! It's just you and me."

Frodo sighed. "Thank goodness for that." He rubbed his eyes gently and released a sluggish yawn. "Boy, Sam, I think I just had the worst dream of my entire life!"

"Really?" Sam inquired curiously. "What was your awful dream about?" He leaned closely and whispered, "Was it about Sauron's Ring?"

Frodo reluctantly nodded his head. "Yes, Sam, it was. Only, except...it was so much more than that. It was far worse than the Ring."

"Worse than the Ring?" Sam exclaimed, shocked. "But, sir, what could possibly be worse than Sauron?"

Frodo gazed into Sam's innocent eyes and softly placed his hand against his friend's plump cheek. In a gentle voice, he replied, "Losing you, Sam...losing you."

Sam smiled and rested his hand on Frodo's shoulder. "What do you mean 'losing' me? You'll never lose me, Mr. Frodo. You couldn't get rid of me if you tried!"

Frodo laughed. "I'm so very glad to hear that, Sam! You don't know how much your comforting words mean to me." In a sincere voice, he added, "Promise that you'll never betray me."

Sam was taken aback. "Betray you, Mr. Frodo? Now, why would I want to do a thing like that?"

"Just please promise me, dear Sam! Promise me that you will never betray me--please!" Frodo pleaded insistently.

"Well, okay, Mr. Frodo," Sam replied. "I give you my hobbit's word of honor that I, Samwise Gamgee, will never betray you or do you wrong in any way. I hereby swear my undying loyalty to you, Mr. Frodo Baggins, until the day I die!" He paused briefly. "How was that?"

Frodo gave a warm smile. "Wonderful...just wonderful, Sam." He reached out and tenderly embraced his good friend.

Sam hugged his master back. "I'm rightly pleased you liked it, sir."

"Come, Sam, it's still pretty late. We have a very busy day ahead of us tomorrow, and we should probably try and get some more rest." Frodo patted Sam on the back. "Let's go back to sleep."

"As you wish, Mr. Frodo." Sam slowly laid back down and quickly shut his eyes. "Goodnight, sir."

"Goodnight, Sam." Frodo watched him for a few moments, then laid back down himself. He stared up at the endless stars twinkling in the calm, night sky. A sudden feeling of sweet peace came over him; filling his once-broken heart with joy and relief. He knew his loyal friend, Sam, would never do him wrong. Sam would faithfully accompany him to the end of time, and beyond. No matter what happened with the Fellowship, or the quest--or even Sauron himself--Sam would forever remain by his side. What more could a hobbit ask for? Frodo quietly rolled over onto his side and closed his eyes. Perhaps the long night wasn't quite so terrible after all.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Betrayed: The Dark Version](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26218474) by [LeastExpected_Archivist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeastExpected_Archivist/pseuds/LeastExpected_Archivist)




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